Dark Places
by Demosthenes23
Summary: Julia and Murdoch have an honest conversation about certain desires they have. Later the fantasies are lived out. Takes place after they are married.
1. Chapter 1

Their housekeeper Mrs. Cynthia Lawrence served them their morning tea and toast. Neither was dressed properly for the day because it was only six thirty and the sun had yet to rise. At first she knew William had been uncomfortable being clothed in such a manner in front of anyone but herself (and for awhile he had been bashful even there), but two months living together seemed to have quashed his sense of propriety soundly...at least in so far as varying states of dress went.

"You look very wistful today."

She glanced over at her husband who was occupied with blowing on his tea, and realized she had been absentmindedly staring out the window, watching the much needed rain shower bring new life to their modest sized garden.

"More speculative I'd wager."

"Oh? Do tell," he said as he took a cautious sip.

"William, I'm curious...have you ever had a dark fantasy in regards to me?"

He choked a little on his hot water and surveyed the room to assure himself that their housekeeper was no longer present before responding. "How do you mean, Julia?"

"Just what I said, William. A dark fantasy...something you've only dreamed of doing with me...or _to_ me as the case may be, but deemed it too improper to ever mention lest it force you to go to confession."

Her husband's eyes darted around the dining room again as he cleared his throat a few times. She found his continued bashfulness to be endearing but also rather irritating. "Julia, it's far too early to be discussing such topics," he said fiddling with his cutlery. "Perhaps later. We have to get ready for work soon."

Julia smiled ever so slightly. "So then you _do_ have a dark fantasy about me?"

Abruptly his fidgeting stopped and he stood up. "I have to go...shave."

He headed in the direction of the water closet and she followed soon after.

"There will be no judgement," she said as he retrieved his toiletry items. "You have nothing to fear in divulging your secret to me. As a show of faith I'll share my darkest fantasy about you first."

His hand stilled on the brush for his shaving cream and a few seconds later it was resting back on the sink. William turned to face her, expression unreadable except for a faint glimmer in his eyes.

"It's a bit silly really," she said as she played with his pyjamas collar, "but I've always wanted you to thoroughly," she chuckled, "_interrogate_ me at the station house."

Predictably he raised an eyebrow. "Interrogate, Julia?"

"Yes...you are dressed in a constable's uniform and looking very rugged since you've neglected to shave for several days as you tracked me down."

"And why would that ever be necessary? You would never break the law."

She rolled her eyes. "In my _fantasy_ I am a jewel thief, something akin to Robin Hood, with a bow and arrow to boot, who has caused the constabulary no end of grief with my mischief. I've escaped custody twice before so now you never take any chances and always handcuff me tightly..." she glanced up to see his reaction while tracing the outline of his lips, "very tightly." He gulped. "As well, you are quite industrious with your baton in an effort to locate the stolen gems."

"That sounds rather violent," he said making a face. "I would never hit you."

"Oh you aren't abusing me with it, just smacking the table every time I speak out of turn in a witty manner..." she smirked, "which as you can imagine is fairly frequently."

William got an odd look on his face but didn't respond. Naturally this peaked her interest.

"William?"

"I too have had a similar fantasy," he said quietly after swallowing hard. His face had become slightly flushed. "Roles reversed of course. In fact, that is also my darkest fantasy about you."

She observed him silently for a few moments. "You aren't just saying that to avoid telling me your _real_ fantasy, are you?

"I assure you I am not." In a clipped, stilted manner he continued. "At first it made me uncomfortable to have you...dominate me...but as the years went by and I continued to experience this fantasy, I became accustomed to your rough manner..." he smiled sheepishly, "and even embraced it to a certain degree."

"How shocking, detective!" she exclaimed, clasping her hands together and laughing. "How wonderfully scandalous!"

He frowned. "I thought you said there would be no judgement?"

"And there isn't." She gave him a quick kiss. "Well then, now that I know, I have some shopping to attend to."

She turned to leave but he called her back.

"Julia..." he said in that same embarrassed manner, "you don't intend to actually live out this shared fantasy of ours? We were just having a discussion, were we not?"

In response she smirked and pocketed his razor.

"Julia!"

* * *

**If I continue this it'll probably have to get moved to the M section.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Well you guys asked for it. If you can actually take this seriously all the way through, then you're much more mature than I. :p**

* * *

As usual Murdoch found himself working late in his office. The current case was a very troubling one and he had yet to make any headway in solving it. Arms crossed, he intensely stared at his blackboard for an unknown length of time. A knock at the door roused him from his increasingly hazed reverie.

Murdoch cocked his head to the side to find his wife standing there with a black bag in her hands. She seemed to be very pleased with herself but trying not to show it. The source of this contentment he had no clue, just like this case.

"Good evening, William," she said, coming over to his side.

He took her free hand and kissed it. "The same to you, Mrs. Murdoch. How was your day?"

"Rather productive. And you?"

Murdoch scowled. "The opposite unfortunately." He pointed to the bag. "What have you got there?"

Julia smiled in a mischievous way. "Something to lift your spirits." Instead of elaborating she glanced around the station house and asked, "Are we quite alone?"

"I don't know," he said gesturing to the blackboard, "I've been fairly preoccupied."

"Well, then, I'll just need to do a quick sweep of our surroundings."

With bag still in hand, she hurried up the stairs to the water closet and changing area. A few seconds later she returned with a grin and held out her hand.

"Julia?" he queried as he took it.

When she led him towards the interview room he suddenly understood what this was all about and put on the brakes, feeling intensely flustered and hot under the collar.

"This is my place of business, Julia, we can't do this here."

"No one need ever know," she whispered seductively in his ear.

The hairs on the back of his neck were thrilled and so was he. Going against his better judgement, he nodded. She put the black bag on the ground and swiftly undid his tie. Before he knew what was happening she had gone behind him and blind folded him with it!

"Julia..."

"Trust me, William, you're going to enjoy this."

She took his hand again, led him into the interview room and sat him down. Then there was a series of rustling noises and clothing clearly being discarded and his heart rate rose accordingly.

"May I look now?"

"Not just yet." He heard heavy boots making their way over to the light switch and then things _really_ got dark. Whereas before he could see some shadows, he could now see absolutely nothing. His sense of foreboding increased.

"Julia?"

A hand to his shoulder. "Everything is fine, William. Just relax."

A few moments later there was the sound of a match being struck and he perceived a dim lighting in the far corner of the room. The faint smell of kerosene permeated the air.

The heavy boots thumped towards him and then he felt the cold sting of a metal clasp around one of his wrists. The other end of the handcuffs was quickly secured to the side of the table.

"Was that really necessary, Julia?"

"Yes, extremely. You are now my prisoner."

Finally his tie was extracted and tossed on the table before them. Julia stayed off to the side of the lantern so that she was silhouetted in a sensuous and somewhat disturbing manner.

Then in an eerily reminiscent way as the first chloroform induced fantasy, she walked into full view, slapping her hand with a police issued baton that she must have borrowed when she had gone upstairs. Unlike his fantasy though, she was dressed far more provocatively with only a hint of the outfit he had come to recognize her in.

_Is that leather?_

Besides the old issue constable's helmet residing on her head, she looked nothing like any police officer he had ever seen. And he was glad for it. Her arousing attire served to put him at his ease...or at least briefly distract him from what was going to happen next.

Julia's face was a mask. "Thought you could get away from me, did you?"

He shook his head, open mouthed.

"Why did you do it?"

"Do what?"

"You know damn well what!" she shouted, jabbing the baton into his cheek. "You killed a girl!"

Murdoch took a moment to compose himself and attempt to play along. "You're mistaken. I would never do such a thing."

"All the evidence points to you, Mr. Prenfrew." She was behind him now, lips tickling his ear, perfume intoxicating him. "How do you explain that?"

"I can't. Perhaps someone is framing me?"

His wife laughed but in a mocking way that he was unaccustomed to.

"So," she said leaning over his shoulder so that ample amounts of cleavage were exposed just under his nose, "astonish me. If you didn't kill her, who did?"

All he could do was stare at her bosom so she slammed the baton into the table right beside his handcuffed hand and he jumped in his seat. "Pay attention, Mr. Prenfrew!" His eyes snapped up to hers. "It's your neck on the line!" She paced around a bit. "Once more, if you didn't kill her, who did?"

"I don't know."

"Are you protecting someone? Is that what this is all about?"

He didn't respond.

"All right then, sunshine, you've left me with no choice." The merest trace of amusement formed on her face. "I'm going to have to _torture_ the answer out of you."

Julia removed the helmet momentarily in order to undo her hair pins. Then she stuck it back on and sidled up to him on the side where he was chained. She poked him in the chest with the baton and said, "You should have just told me what I wanted to know. Now you're going to pay dearly for your tight lips."

His wife sat down on the edge of the table and pulled off her heavy boots. It was during this process that he noticed a glimmer of metal pieces on the back side of her outfit. Strangely they went all the way down to the small of her back, with no buttons to be seen.

"What is that?" he asked pointing with his free hand and trying to awkwardly reach across to tug on the little tab at the top.

"You have much bigger concerns right now, Mr. Prenfrew."

She scooted across the table until she was sitting directly in front of him, silky legs dangling over the edge. Julia moved one of her feet to his knee and then slid her toes up his thigh. She did the same thing with his other leg and then trailed the baton down his vested chest until it was just an inch or so away from his crotch.

Despite this somewhat compromising position, he reached out to touch her calf and she slapped his hand away.

"If you don't behave yourself I will be forced to restrain you further. Do you understand?"

He nodded dumbly. Julia removed the baton and replaced it with a foot. The heel slowly lowered until it was resting directly on his crotch. She began to stroke him through his trousers and he sighed in pleasure.

"You like that, do you, Willard? I'm sorry to inform you that I'm just getting started."

Very slowly she undid the buttons to his vest and starched shirt and then she rolled up his wife beater until it was secured by his suspenders, just under his armpits. She circled his bare chest with the baton and then raised it up to his chin, forcing him to look into her eyes. "Are you ready to tell me what I want to know?"

Murdoch shook his head. "Far from it."

"Fine then," she said, rubbing harder and faster into his crotch and making him groan. "The _hard_ way it is."

Julia lazily played with his nipples while she continued her other ministration. She pinched one a little too hard and he gasped. Then just as he reached full arousal she abruptly stopped and moved away from him.

"_Julia_," he whined.

"My name is Swinton," she barked. "Detective Tilda Swinton."

Even through the fog of his arousal he couldn't help but wonder where she came up with these strange names.

She picked up the baton and again was clapping it into her hand as she paced just out of reach.

"You've held out surprisingly well so far, Mr. Prenfrew." Julia turned dramatically towards him, "But that's all about to change."

She bent over by the black bag giving him a most titillating view of her derriere. He throbbed all the harder but restrained himself from whining once more by gritting his teeth together.

When she faced him again, it took him a moment to understand what she was holding in her hands. It looked to be a whip that was very similar to the one a certain artist had owned. Flicking her wrist she gracefully snapped it a foot or so away from his face. At the same time he was flinching he was wondering if she had practised using it before coming here.

_She isn't actually going to hit me with it, is she?_

Perhaps some alarm registered behind his dilated pupils because she seemed to second guess herself and tossed the whip aside. Then with a very determined air she marched over to the table, hopped up onto it and then parked herself in his lap. He moaned as her full weight rested on the prominent ridge in his trousers. Before he could pull at the metal tag thing she had pinned his arm behind him with surprising strength and tied it with his tie.

Confound this woman! All he wanted to do was touch her!

Julia gave him a knowing look as if she could read his thoughts. In a completely unconcerned, unhurried manner, she took the constable's helmet off and placed it on his own head. Then she ran her fingers across his smooth chin and cheeks and narrowed her eyes in apparent disappointment.

His wife gave him another sly smile and then proceeded to nip and suckle his torso all over. It was exquisitely painful and maddened him beyond compare. Murdoch wrenched his arm free of his tie and yanked her mouth against his.

"William!" she exclaimed, breaking character, trying to squirm out of his one armed embrace. "Not yet!"

"Games are finished!" he grunted in frustration. "You're mine now!"

With his chained hand he finally managed to pull at the tag, making the entire corset instantly come off. This action made a strange sound that he had never heard before. By now his thoughts were so far removed from new forms of binding that he didn't ponder what it was beyond that. At about the same time, his wife relented her devious scheme and allowed him to cover her own torso in kisses. He was not much less gentle than she had been and she kept gasping over and over again as his teeth grazed her supple skin.

They parted just long enough to remove her underwear and pop open his trousers and then the interrogation chair was given the beating of its life.


	3. Chapter 3

A few weeks later as she was just getting ready to go home for the evening, her assistant informed her that the constabulary had desperate need of her expertise. Julia sighed to herself and finished pinning her hat on her head. Then she made her way down a few flights of stairs and onto the main floor of the asylum. A constable was waiting for her by the doors and she stifled the urge to snap at him. She didn't enjoy being baby sat even if it was late at night.

"What seems to be the problem, constable?"

_Can't it wait until morning?_

The constable turned to face her and she cried out in surprise and delight. An unshaven William smiled slightly and said, "I've been ordered to escort you down to the station house, Dr. Ashford."

She got a hold of herself and responded somewhat irately, "What on earth for constable...?"

"Dalton. There have been allegations of jewelry theft."

"_And_?"

"And you are the prime suspect."

"Preposterous! I am a doctor and nothing more!"

"That remains to be seen."

"I refuse to go with you on such wanton charges!"

He fingered the handcuffs in his belt. "Please don't make a scene, ma'am. I'm just following orders."

Julia glanced around and seeing that the admittance nurse was not present at the moment, she laughed and ran out the front door. He pursued her a second later down the stairs telling her to stop. Julia made it past the waiting transport carriage and almost to the tree line before he caught her. William pinned her to the ground a little roughly, knocking her hat off, and whispered in her ear, "Thought you could get away from me, did you?"

She was slightly displeased to note a hint of alcohol on his breath. But if that was the only way he could work up the courage for this, so be it. It wasn't as though he was falling over drunk as a skunk.

William handcuffed her and brought her to her feet. She struggled all the way back to the transport carriage but he kept a firm hand on her arm. He loaded her into the back and then drove them to the station house. Julia was only vaguely concerned that someone may have seen her flight and subsequent arrest, though she probably _should_ have been more concerned considering there were still the occasional whispers from staff since her previous arrest there. She was far too excited about what was to come to really care. The fact that he had orchestrated such an elaborate scheme was rather hard to fathom. William Murdoch had never been one for grand gestures and yet here she was being transported to her darkest fantasy! If this start was any indication, he was well on the way to satisfying her completely.

At the station house he led her in through the side door that passed by the holding cells. "If you don't behave yourself, you'll spend the night in there."

"Well then, you had better locate the keys," she said coyly.

He glowered at her and pushed her gently into the common room. William plopped her into the same interrogation chair that they had nearly broken last time. Julia smirked to herself when she felt how lose the backing had become.

"Does this situation amuse you, Dr. Ashford?"

"Exceedingly."

He pulled out his baton. "Very unwise. These are serious allegations. If found guilty you could go away for a long time. Is that what you want?"

She just continued to smile and he slammed the baton into the table. A thrill went through her.

"I'm making it my mission to wipe that smug smile off your face. I don't care if it takes all night."

William frowned at her continued merriment and then he left the room. A little while later he came back with a file in hand. The label said Jessica Ashford.

Inside the file were several pages of accusations directed towards her by several different fictional people and beyond those there was a single blurry photograph of someone with her build and hair sneaking into someone's window at night. The figure even appeared to have a bow and arrow slung across their back.

_My goodness! He's thought of everything!_

"Not so smug now, are you?"

His footing seemed to be less stable and his words had come out somewhat hazed, and she realized he must have partaken of more of the inspector's whiskey when he went to retrieve the file.

_Hmm..._

"On the contrary, Constable Dalton, I am quite tickled by this whole affair."

He slammed the baton into the table again, this time closer to her and she jumped involuntarily. It was William's turn to smile. In an unsteady manner he pointed with the baton towards the photograph, "Do you deny that the person caught red handed at the Wilshire Estate is you?"

"Most adamantly."

"Do you also deny owning a bow and arrow?"

"Indeed."

"That is a bald faced lie! You are known to be far and away the best female archer in the city! Many of your past lovers can attest to that! Or should I say victims?"

Where had that come from? So now she was an amorous assassin?

"Call them whatever you will, constable, they all deserved it. And I enjoyed myself immensely dispatching them."

He gave her a disgusted look and muttered, "Quite the piece of work," and then paced, or rather staggered around a bit as if biding time trying very hard to figure out his next move.

She decided to prompt him. "Constable?"

He gave her a confused look and then said, "Where were you on the night of October the third between midnight and one?"

"Asleep of course."

"How convenient."

She laughed. "Now it's a crime to go to bed at a reasonable hour? Next you'll be arresting nuns for praying too frequently."

The baton came down again so hard that he chipped the edge of the table. If he noticed he pretended not to have. At this rate the interview room would be in shambles come morning. She couldn't wait.

"There will be no more of that nonsense. You'll show me some respect," his eyes hardened, "or I'll _make_ you."

In response Julia spread her legs apart provocatively and winked at him.

"You've made your decision then."

It wasn't formed as a question but she responded all the same. "I have."

"So be it," he said advancing on her, baton raised.

For a second she was afraid he was actually going to strike her but at the last moment he stayed his hand and instead poked her in the cheek with it like she had done to him, albeit rather roughly because his judgement was impaired.

"You're a very odd specimen, Dr. Ashton. I've never seen your like before."

In a languorous way the baton trailed down the edge of her jaw, along her throat and rested on the swell of her bosom. He applied a bit of pressure. Despite herself her breathing quickened.

"Finally, some wisdom. You _should_ be afraid. When I'm through with you," he said in a quiet yet menacing way, "you won't be able to walk straight for a week. Every little secret you have will come screaming out of you."

The absurdity of such words coming out of such a man momentarily shocked her into utter silence. But then she burst out into snorting laughing.

"Be quiet!" he roared, slamming the baton into the table again. She tried to do as he said but couldn't.

William scowled and yanked her head back by her hair. The laughter was surprised right out of her. The sting was forgotten as he tore open her blouse to expose her corset.

Blood pumping hot and fast, she nevertheless groaned at the lose of her favourite blouse.

Remembering her role again she yelled, "Stop this at once, constable, or I will be forced to report you!"

"It's your word over mine," he replied with an unsettling lip curl. "Who do you think they're going to believe?"

William raised his eyes to hers and she was again stunned when she could barely see the man she loved there, he was so drunk and deep into this character he had concocted. She shivered at the coldness and _hunger_ there and debated whether or not to put a stop to this before it really got out of hand.

"William, perhaps..."

A resounding thud of the baton chipping more of the table away and the beginnings of fear in her heart. "My name is Richard Ashley and you would do well to remember that." His fingers caressed, or rather pawed at the sensitive skin above her corset and she was far from thrilled by his touch. "Now, where were we?"

Julia tried to stand up but he pushed her back down. She tried to kick his shins but he simply dodged her assault by accidentally tripping over his own feet and falling over. He picked himself up and glowered at her.

"You're a feisty minx, aren't you?" he said straddling her. His weight dug into her thighs rather unpleasantly and crushed her hands against the back of the chair. His stubble brushed against her ear as he whispered, "I'll put an end to that soon enough."

When she tried to tell him to get off he clamped a hand over her nose and mouth. Suddenly she felt like she was buried six feet under when the oxygen had almost been used up. Panic took a hold of her and she bit into his flesh. Hard. He yanked his bleeding palm back with a yelp and cursed under his breath. Then he glared at her and she glared right back until the excitement was over and his senses partially returned to him. William blinked rapidly for several seconds and seemed to view her with shock as though he hadn't been present at all.

"Oh my," he said rather sheepishly, half falling off of her, "it appears I deserved that."

"You ruined my favourite blouse. _Your_ favourite blouse."

"I'm sorry, Julia," he said hanging his head, "I don't know what came over me." He flashed her his puppy dog eyes and gave her a small smile. "Was that at least along the lines of what you wanted?"

Why was it so impossible to stay mad at him when he gave her that look?

"Yes and no," she huffed. "You started out strong but then took a turn for the worse. I especially didn't much care for the hair pulling." He glanced away and rubbed his forehead in distress. She sighed and said, "Never mind that, William. Undo my restraints and I'll tend to your wound. They've become rather uncomfortable anyway." She chuckled slightly. "You took my quip about tight handcuffs a little _too_ seriously."

_Not unlike this entire misadventure._

William stood there awkwardly in an embarrassed manner for a few more seconds and then hastened to fulfill her command. Julia was pleased to note full circulation returning to her slightly numbed hands. While she was occupied with twiddling her fingers, he left the interview room and came back a moment later holding his suit jacket. He handed it to her and she put it on and did it up. It wasn't a perfect cover up but it was better than nothing.

"Come along then, William," she said taking his arm and leading them towards the morgue.

"So, I'm curious, where did you procure that constable's uniform from? It appears to be the genuine article and I thought your old one had been re-purposed for your replacement?"

"It was. I borrowed this one from the change room."

She smirked. "And whom may I ask did you borrow it from?" He got a sheepish look on his face again and she laughed. "Poor George. He's going to wonder where that blood stain came from tomorrow."

Julia didn't have a key on her any longer but she did know where the spare one was hidden and so they made their way in without any difficulties. Lights turned on she sat him down by Emily's desk in the viewing area and provided him with the same basin she used to use for washing her hands of blood. At least this way further mess could be contained.

Instruments in hand she pulled a chair across from him and examined the wound. It was deeper than she had been expecting and would require a stitch or two. Biting her lip she looked up at him. "Forgive me, William."

"Already have."

The look of love he gave her made her feel foolish for ever putting him in that position. Why exactly had she been so taken with the idea of being manhandled by him?

Focusing back on her task, she cleaned and sterilized the bite, gave him two stitches and then securely wrapped it up in bandages. "How badly does it hurt?"

"I'll be fine."

"That's not what I asked."

"I don't need any injections, Julia," he said shifting uncomfortably in his seat.

"Actually I believe you do. That could easily become infected."

_And I would rather not become known as a black widow._

Julia prepared a syringe of mercury and told him to hold still. He flinched as the needle plunged into his arm but otherwise did as she bade.

"Well," she said standing up, smoothing out his suit jacket, "I suppose we should be heading home."

William had yet to join her and she looked to him. He was staring through the glass that separated the viewing area and Emily's office space. "Perhaps not quite yet."

"William?"

He took George's helmet off and went over to Emily's desk. Intrigued, she followed him and watched as he calmly collected Emily's papers and trinkets and deposited them at various other locations.

Finally when the surface was cleared he turned to face her. "I once had a very intense fantasy of having my way with you on this very desk."

Her breath hitched as she remembered her own vivid and stormy fantasy almost four years ago. For quite awhile she had looked back on it as an actual memory. It had made those lonely nights during her first marriage more bearable.

"Only once?"

In response he just smiled.

Heart pumping faster again, Julia undid her hair pins and the buttons to his suit jacket and took a step closer to him. All the while intense eye contact was made. When she shook out her hair and dropped his jacket to the ground, he closed the gap between them remarkably fast and then just like in her fantasy effortlessly lifted her onto the desk and showered her with affection. Unlike her fantasy, no one interrupted them. Instead there was a minute or two of frustration as she struggled to get him out of George's constable's uniform.

Finally they were disrobed and she wrapped herself around him as he entered her and began their well worn ritual. It wasn't nearly as primal as their last encounter in the interview room but the alcohol had reduced some of his inhibitions and he managed to completely satisfy her all the same. In the end he always did.


	4. Chapter 4

The next morning after they were served their breakfast Julia said, "So, William, would you ever consider doing that again?" He gave her a blank stare and she wasn't sure if it was feigned or not or if he was simply suffering from a hangover. "Make passionate love in the morgue I mean."

William raised an eyebrow but did not choke on any food or dart his eyes around to check that their housekeeper was out of ear shot. He seemed to have gotten used to her abruptly bringing up scandalous topics. She was a bit disappointed by that. It was so much fun to tease him.

In an unconcerned manner he continued to butter his toast. "That depends, Julia..." he looked up and caught her eye, "are you willing to replace anything we might break?"

They held eye contact for a few seconds longer and then she glanced away, chuckling. He was getting much better at playing her games. Julia looked at him again, determined not to let him win quite so easily. "That depends, William, what exactly did you have in mind?"

Her husband appeared thoughtful as he took a bite and chewed slowly. "The cabinet is full of many fragile items. Some of which contain rather exotic and therefore valuable liquids. If the entire cabinet were to be tragically knocked over," he said, looking at her steadfastly, "that would cost a pretty penny."

"I believe we could shoulder that expense if we forewent," she paused, waiting for him to take another bite, "toast for awhile." That comment elicited the faintest of smiles out of him. She hazarded a sip of her tea and nearly burned her tongue. Cup back in the saucer she said, "However, if say the _laboratory_ equipment was damaged we could very well find ourselves in _dire_ financial difficulties. As you well know, a modern microscope can cost a small fortune. And as rich as we are, there are only so many microscope's we could replace before we would find ourselves paupers."

"Thankfully I am very adept at fixing things," he replied, staring her down.

"Indeed," she said with a slight lip curl, sharing the look. "You are very skilled with your hands. Almost _too_ good. One might wonder how you achieved such mastery without a college education."

"One might," he agreed with a slight smirk, acknowledging her compliment, "if they did not know me at all. For those that do know I am a voracious reader of all manner of subjects."

"Yes, how silly of me to have forgotten." She braved another sip and then pushed her luck with her next comment. "Your most recent purchase offended me exceedingly."

Rather than be embarrassed his smirk grew a little more. "You found that did you? I'll need to locate a better hiding place."

"No need now. The cat is quite out of the bag." Smiling sweetly, "You, sir, are a verifiable pervert." William made a face. "I am shocked and appalled to be married to such a deviant. Such disgusting interests! And from a Catholic no less! I most adamantly demand that you dispose of such filth immediately and restore the purity of this household."

"Pity," he replied, going back to his toast, "I was hoping to try out page 53 tonight." Despite her best efforts her breathing hitched and her face flushed briefly. Naturally he noticed and the smirk returned. "Why, Mrs. Murdoch, I do believe you are just as much a pervert as I."

"Take that back right now, husband! I am no such thing!"

"I will not. If anything you are more of a heathen than I." She gasped for show. "Your time with Freud supplied you with all sorts of blasphemous material that you have _still_ neglected to purge yourself of. In fact, I am certain I saw you reviewing some of it the other day at the asylum." He gazed at her intently, "And you were happily _humming._"

"How unconscionable to accuse your own darling wife of such fiendish lies!"

Then for dramatic purposes she picked up her napkin and threw it at him. It hit him in the face and landed in his tea, lightly splashing his hand.

_Oops!_

If it had burned him at all he didn't let on. He just stood up and walked over to her side. Arms crossed, she fake glared up at him.

"Apologize."

"I will not. You are a miscreant and you deserved it."

William leaned over and whispered, "Now I'm going to make you try page 53 _and _77 tonight."

Julia's breath hitched again but she managed to stay in character. "You are a wicked, wicked man William Murdoch. I never would have thought-"

He pulled her upright and kissed her soundly. Instantly she melted into his embrace.

"Oh, pardon me Mr. and Mrs. Murdoch!" exclaimed Mrs. Lawrence, averting her eyes as she entered the dining hall to clear away the dishes.

She groaned internally as they parted. If it wasn't George, it was her housekeeper interrupting them. True Cynthia had already left but the moment was now ruined. They just stared at each other.

"Tonight then," they both said almost simultaneously.

The Murdoch's shared a smile and then prepared themselves for work.

* * *

**Well that's it for me! As usual thanks for reading!**


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